


but when i treat you bad it always makes you wanna stay

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a dark side.</p><p>Title taken from Pretty When You Cry by VAST.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but when i treat you bad it always makes you wanna stay

**Author's Note:**

> My darling [ theheartsfriend](http://theheartsfriend.tumblr.com/) gave me an innocent, innocuous prompt and it turned into something much different. For you, my love.

When Tim Lincecum asks if he can borrow your ipod, you say yes. Not just because he’s the ace, not just because you’ve learned through observation that one of the cardinal rules of being a Giant is keeping Lincecum happy but also because he’s kind of pretty and he’s always been really nice to you. Even when you ask what you later learn is an incredibly stupid question, he answers without laughing at you. Well, without laughing at you to your face.

The point is that George hands his ipod over without a word because if he speaks he might squeak. It’s not his fault. The once and future king wants something from him and George is going to provide it. He pretends that his skin doesn’t tingle where Lincecum’s hand smacks him on the back. He just looks down and away and shuffles after Lopez to join in on their dominoes game.

“Oh. My. God. KONTOS!” Lincecum’s voice is a loud shriek when he comes tearing back into the clubhouse a scant fifteen minutes after he left. His eyes are shining but there’s an evil glint in them. “Kontos, you are golden.”

“I... am?”

Lincecum leers. “Oh, you really are. You just need somebody to love, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everybody?” George asks uneasily.

“You wanna be somebody’s boyfriend, baby.” Lincecum snickers. When their teammates stare at him, Lincecum lays out George’s ipod. “BIEBER?!”

“It’s catchy.” George shrugs, trying to smile. Instead he’s flushing bright red. “Fuck off.”

“You are adorable. You are the cutest thing that I have ever seen. You are magnificent.”

“And you’re an asshole.” George mutters. “Like you’re so fucking fantastic...”

George might be overreacting but he’s never been all that great when it comes to being laughed at, not around here. It’s twice as bad when it’s by someone he has a massive thing for, someone who puts butterflies in his stomach when they smile at him and whose touch makes his skin tingle. He grabs his ipod and makes tracks back to his locker, throwing his gear in his bag and zipping it up.

The laughter that follows him out of the clubhouse makes his shoulders hunch up a little but he manages to put laughter in his voice when he yells over his shoulder that he hates them all and they suck. Footsteps thunder after him and he turns to face it, groaning when he sees Lincecum. There’s a series of mockery and insults coming from the older man’s lips. George reacts the only way he knows how.

He reaches out and grabs Lincecum’s shirt, hauling him up off of his feet and into a hard kiss before growling against his lips, “Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth. You. Lousy. Fuck.”

When he places Lincecum back onto his feet, the older man is staring at him wide eyed, like he doesn’t know what to say. He probably doesn’t. George doubts that anyone has ever spoken to him like that before. And maybe George doesn’t mean it like it sounded, doesn’t mean to be so harsh, he likes the apparent affect it has on the other pitcher. There’s a heat there that’s rather curious.

“Probably are a lousy fuck. Expect everything to just be given to you. For people to just give you what you want.” George purrs, grabbing Lincecum’s shirt and drawing him back in close again. “Maybe I should show you how to put that mouth to good use, something better than just running it worthlessly, Lincecum.”

“I... Tim. It’s Tim.”

Lincecum. no, Tim, is panting and he whimpers when the tips of George’s fingers skim over the bulge in his jeans. So somebody has a humiliation kink. George can work with that. He hauls the older man into a supply closet, scans the shelves for something he can use, smirking and grabbing a small box. Tim’s tank top goes over his head easily enough and it just takes a pinch and a flick of George’s nail to harden his nipples.

When George clips the binder clips onto them, Tim yelps and then moans. He looks up at George, whispers a barely audible ‘please’. George smirks. “Are you going to be a good boy or do I have to tie your hands?”

“I’ll... I can...” Tim trails off, gasping. “Tie them. Please.”

His tank top is thin, worn, tears easily in George’s hands. He loops the strips around Tim’s hands, tightens them until they’re digging into Tim’s flesh and the older man is whining low in his throat, trying to grind forward and whimpering when George pushes him back. He shoves Tim down onto his knees, trails a thumb over Tim’s lips before unfastening his jeans, pushing them down just enough to release his cock.

He strokes himself to hardness, brushes the tip of his dick over Tim’s lips, asks him if he wants it, if he thinks he deserves it. There’s no answer, just Tim nodding frantically and pushing forward, lips parted. George takes advantage of it, pushes into Tim’s mouth, into his throat. Tim gags and there’s tears in his eyes but his moan broadcasts loud and clear just how much he wants this.

He’s a slut. A gorgeous one.

George fists a hand in his hair, guides Tim’s movements, alternates between fucking his throat and teasing him. Tim looks ready to cry with his frustration but the more George talks to him, the more he taunts him, the more he moans. When George comes across his face, he shudders and George snickers, running a thumb through the cum and before holding his fingers out for Tim to lick clean.

“I’d ask if you want me to help you but knowing a slut like you, you got off from just that.” George murmurs, smirking broadly when Tim blushes dark red.

“I did.” He whispers. “Neededthat. Wanted it.... want to see you tonight. Can I? Please...”

“Of course you do. Guys like you never get enough, do you?” George answers, slapping his cheek just hard enough to sting. “Clean yourself up. Look even sluttier than you act. Hell of an accomplishment really. See you tonight.”

He doesn’t look at Tim as he leaves, lets the door slam shut behind him. He’s willing to bet anything that the moment the door clicked shut, Tim shoved a hand into his jeans, got himself off all over again. The thought makes George lick his lips and flex his hand, think of all the toys he’s got stashed away in his hotel room that he hasn’t gotten to use in far, far too long. He’s going to use them, all of them, on Tim tonight.

Tim is gorgeous. He’ll probably bruise beautifully. George can’t wait.


End file.
